


Chinese Fireball

by freckles42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: daily_deviant, F/M, Restraints, Situational Humiliation, Women's Underwear, petticoat discipline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:16:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckles42/pseuds/freckles42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Su teaches Draco about how women always get their way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chinese Fireball

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Petticoat discipline.
> 
> Written in 2007.

Draco held up the little pink scrap of fabric, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

“And what, exactly, did you want me to do with this?” he asked, pinching the pale lace _thing_ as though it were a creature that had Recently Gone to the Place Where Small Things Go To Die.

Su crossed her arms in front of her and smiled sweetly.

“Wear it, of course,” she said, her Northern accent giving that lilt that Draco had learned he just couldn’t resist. Except – these were _underpants_ and there was _no way_ he was going to-

Oh _Merlin_ , she was doing it again. Those dark eyes narrowed and she licked her thin pink lips and _then_ she tipped her porcelain neck just _so_ and how was any sort of Wizard supposed to resist that? However, he still had his pride to consider.

“There’s no way,” he said tartly, focusing on the weird brown spot on the wall just over her shoulder and feigning boredom. If he didn’t _look_ at her, he might just make it out of this with his dignity intact. He made a note to have one of the house-elves scrub down that wall.

Quiet.

Uh-oh. That sort of silence never boded well for him – or his dignity. He dared to look back at her. Blasted Ravenclaws and their clever, obstinate ways. She was looking at him serenely, like those stupid statues she kept scattered around the Malfoy Manor. He’d tripped over them and kicked them and cursed them, but she’d set them back (or, more likely, had one of the house-elves set them back) certainly, diligently. Over the past year he had learned to avoid them if he wished to keep his toes intact. It was easier, at least, than explaining to his pedicurist why his toenails were impacted and bruised.

“No,” he said more firmly, deciding to bluff his way out. He squared his shoulders. “You can’t make me.” He dropped the offending knickers onto the floor of their room and realised immediately that he had made a fatal error. His eyes met hers and for the briefest of moments, he hesitated. She had her wand out before he’d lunged halfway across the bed.

*******

When he came to, hands bound over his head, it was dark and damp. For a brief moment he panicked, afraid it was the war all over again – but then he felt the horrifying itch of lace pulling at his pubic hairs and he realised that (for all His cruelty) that the Dark Lord never made him dress in lacy knickers.

A lamp flared in a corner. He grimaced and squinted his eyes but lifted his chin defiantly, slowly letting his pupils adjust to the new light. The fully clothed form of Su came slowly into focus, the silk of her dressing gown moving sensuously against her as she shifted her stance. His wife always did go for the dramatics, and he had to admit that the warm glow of the flame against the skin that he _could_ see was exotic and enticing. He vaguely wondered when she’d found the time to redo the dungeons.

The fabric was itching even more now as his cock grew at the sight of her. The cool metal of the shackles rubbed against his wrists and no matter how he pulled, he could not reach down to relieve the pressure. He let a very undignified whine escape his lips. She stepped forward and smiled – that damned enigmatic smile that had always left him wondering what she was planning, the smile that had caused him to decide to pursue her. He was little closer to understanding what that smile meant than he’d been the day he’d been introduced to her.

“Oh, my dragon,” she said, pulling something small out of her pocket. “If only you’d submitted voluntarily; this would have been so much easier.”

His eyes went wide when he realised she was holding a lacy pink bra that matched the panties he’d tossed on the floor. He glanced down and could just barely make out the pink-covered bulge below his waist. Oh. He could feel the red rushing to his cheeks, and so help him, his cock got harder.

“Damn you!” he said, lifting his head defiantly and struggling against the restraints. “Damn you and your little mind games, are you happy? I’m wearing your fucking knickers, congratulations, now let me down or suck me off, but for fuck’s sake, I won’t stand for this sort of blatant _humiliation_!”

“Oh, but you will, Draco, dearest,” she said, stepping closer, untying her robe and letting it fall open, revealing a pair of his boxers and an old shirt he thought he’d discarded six months prior. His mouth went dry. Clothes that looked ratty and, frankly, beneath him on his body looked downright delectable on his wife.

“I look sexy in your clothes, don’t you think you might just look good in mine?”

“Let me down, woman, or so help me I’ll – I’ll take away your allowance for a month!” It was the worst punishment he could come up with off the top of his head, and he knew it was a weak one.

She rolled her eyes and dug her wand out of the robe, fitting it into her other hand while still holding the brassiere aloft. “Oh, Draco, will you never learn? It’s not about the money. Now why don’t you just get comfortable, dear?”

“Not very likely, now, is _mmmmm!_ ”

A flick of her wand and his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth. Another flick and the bra lifted itself from her hand and wrapped itself around his chest. A swish snugly secured the straps over his shoulders. Her silk robe fell to the floor around her feet and she stepped closer to him, the scent of her arousal forcing his cock hard, bulging painfully against the sheer fabric. He felt a surge of heat rush through his body (even as his fingers began to tingle from blood loss) and he just wanted to be free to relieve the pressure.

“You talk too much,” she said idly, running one hand into her boxers. “I think you should find a better use for your mouth.”

He looked at her hand, then down at the bra around his chest, and back up at her. His eyes begged her to release him so he could remove the blasted feminine articles and prove to her what a man he could be. She seemed to understand this, and with her free hand waved her wand while sliding her other hand back out of her pants.

“ _Accio camera!_ ” she said, deftly catching the photography device. Draco’s eyes went wide and he shook his head. If she’d un-stick his tongue he’d beg he; he’d do _anything_ not to have a photo of himself like _this!_

She seemed to know it, too, and smiled as she took the picture of him, cock hard and leaking in her pretty little underwear set. He would have growled if he’d been able, but instead he just glared, then hung his head, defeated. If she ever wanted to blackmail him, well, now she had the material. Good thing he trusted her – well, as much as he trusted anyone.

“Now,” she said, setting the camera aside and pushing her boxers down, “how about you lick me until I cum, hmm?”

Humiliated, Draco tipped his head forward and pursed his lips, brushing them against her neatly trimmed labia.

“What I want, I get, dear,” she moaned, pressing her snatch against his mouth. “And little man, you’re what I’ve always wanted.”


End file.
